There is so much to do, and the shortening
distance on my calendar between the current day and my day of departure is a
constant source of panic. Many of these precious days are devoted to replacing
the substantial amount of funds that I’ve invested in this experience, and
shelving cartloads of books or wiping floors does little to settle this
constricting feeling in my chest. I will say that describing these feelings has
helped, if only a little. A journal my mom bought me a few years ago was
supposed to be reserved for my departure date onward, but last night I couldn’t
help but release some of my worries in a series of poorly written, but
liberating, pages. I decided to open this blog for two reasons: first, the
alliteration is just irresistible; second, more than writing in unread pages
does the notion of a supportive readership provide much comfort.
When preparing for this kind of expedition, I
know that feelings of anxiety are supposed to be normal. It is difficult to
admit, however, that this constricting feeling in my chest seems to be a lot
more like fear than excitement. There are times when I doubt myself, and want
to turn back. I know that my Global Stew cohorts have experienced these
feelings before preparing for even longer, more isolated trips, and have
ventured to and from the coasts of Africa and across the reaches of Southeast
Asia. How many countries have we visited all together? It was definitely over
seventy. Such comparatively short lives we’ve had, and yet it’s incredible how
far a sense of adventure can get you.
It’s a sense of adventure that’s getting me
into trouble. All of these weeks of waiting and now I’ve realized that I really
have no idea what I’m doing, nor what to expect. I suppose that’s the whole
point: do not expect. In Lawrence
Scanlan’s A Year of Living Generously,
“do not assume” is described as central to his experience working as a volunteer in Canada with not-for-profit organizations aimed at supplementing low incomes and offering aid to those in need. He also quotes from Six Months in
Sudan by Dr. James Maskalyk, who writes that “it’s not about trying to
reconcile two different worlds, it’s about understanding that it’s one.” The
need for education, for security, and sustainable livelihoods is a universal
one, and so there should be no barriers to our compassion. But there are.
I have tried to prepare as well as I can. I could be wrong about a lot of things. I probably am. At
least, I feel that I can only see things at face value without having witnessed
them myself. My words seem despairingly superficial.
